The life she destroyed.
The life she destroyed was her own.
The life she destroyed was her own, and with every step she took, she unraveled herself, leaving ruin in the wake of everything she touched.
He betrayed and faked to be fully gay to possibly get in my pants. She left me for a girl she met on a trip. And to think my life was actually GOOD. Aside from my crazy bitch of a sister and mother, of course.
But then so, who could blame me for trying to commit suicide? Who could blame me for fucking trying to die?
At first all this was regret. Then she came along, in our beautiful dorm in the mental hospital.